Mysterious, curious, glorious, or furious - Sometimes I know where my poems come from. Sometimes I don't. Here are two short poems that are in the second category. Two from the twilight zone. For you to consider on this mysterious summer day, a summer day like any other...
Enjoy.
PS Don't forget, we are outdoors at Stevens Estate next Tuesday for this month's open mic! Tuesday 7/23, 6PM. See Events on FB group North Andover Poets Corner.
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The path disappears
I am suddenly in fear
I am in fear
I stand here revealed
The way to safety has turned narrow
I cannot pass or fly like the sparrow
There is no path forward
The one road goes onward
Through the valley of steel knives
Cold in the hand, they greet me
The other road rises high above the valley floor
It meets a bridge high above the valley floor
Where is the path?
I am suddenly in fear
I am in fear
I stand here revealed
The way to safety has turned narrow
I cannot pass or fly like the sparrow
There is no path forward
The one road goes onward
Through the valley of steel knives
Cold in the hand, they greet me
The other road rises high above the valley floor
It meets a bridge high above the valley floor
Where is the path?
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Tell Why
But I write it because it’s beautiful
But I write it because it hurts
But I write it because it hurts less when I do
But I write it because it’s the only way out
But I write it because it’s the only way in
But I write it because it’s the only way to know what I know
But I write it because
It’s beautiful
But I write it because it hurts
But I write it because it hurts less when I do
But I write it because it’s the only way out
But I write it because it’s the only way in
But I write it because it’s the only way to know what I know
But I write it because
It’s beautiful
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